


thought less

by closetblinger



Category: Kpop - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-07
Updated: 2015-09-07
Packaged: 2018-04-19 13:02:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4747430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/closetblinger/pseuds/closetblinger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Memories exist with life. And death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	thought less

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Pretty Little Liars](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/142262) by ohxmega. 



Imagine an enormous Italian villa built purposefully to look centuries old, nestled in a Korean mountainside far away from modernity and metropoles. Its architecture is out of place for the area, but it somehow blends in with the overgrown foliage and trickling stream on its eastern side. It’s filled with priceless art that had been collected – and stolen – for decades, an antique baby grand that could play melodies and harmonies fit for concert halls built above the clouds. It has over a dozen bedrooms, each meticulously decorated and furnished for seemingly over a dozen different personalities. It is, simply, impossibly beautiful.

Now imagine it on fire.

That’s the last thing I remember, the image plastered stubbornly on the back of my eyes, before waking up in a busy airport with a small bag on my lap and my shoeless feet propped up on the seat beside me. I’d have jumped up had my body not felt nearly completely numb save for the radiating pain coming from my right arm. It felt like it was on fire, and I had to blink away the ghostly image of flames licking my flesh in order to see the bloody bandages wrapped messily around each of my fingers and all the way up to my shoulder.

There was a grumble behind me, “hey, brat, what are you doing here?” and I tried to ignore the fact that, without even turning around, I knew the man was in his late fifties, was shorter than me, and walked with a limp that he tried desperately to hide.

I wanted to tell him that I had no idea. What airport was I even in? What city? I hadn’t even had the chance to open the heavy bag across my lap. So instead of answering, I pulled my body into a sitting position; slipped my feet into what looked like brand new, brand name sneakers on the floor next to me; then pulled open the bag’s zipper and snapped it open. Strangely, I found a small, dented lock box. Less strangely, some manila envelopes and papers. An unopened water bottle. A passport. No airline ticket.

“Did you hear me, you dumbass?!” I responded with a grunt, then with a yell when I felt his hand on my injured shoulder. Without thinking or meaning to, I stood up and snapped my left arm forward once, twice, and the security guard – of course he’s a security guard – was doubled over cradling a bloody nose.

I drew attention to myself. People around us stopped walking, some with hands over their gaping mouths and others looking at me with confusion, even anger. My heart sped up so quickly and my body quivered so violently that I thought I would puke all over him. As soon as the thought crossed my mind, I dry heaved so roughly that I fell to my knees.

The shot of pain to my legs was nothing compared to the flow of urgency that overwhelmed me as soon as I heard three shouting voices behind me. I ran as fast as I could straight through the crowd and didn’t slow until I saw glass doors and SUVs in crooked queues and taxis fighting for customers.

My chest was about to burst open when I finally made it to a parking garage. My pursuers were far behind me, but I knew they’d easily find me with the CCTVs if they hadn’t already.

I needed a car. I needed to find an unlocked car because even though I didn’t know why I was at an airport, I knew without a doubt that I didn’t have a fucking car or a way into the city, whichever city that was. I ran into the parking deck until I couldn’t see the overcast sky and only stopped to double over to rest my hands on my knees when the world around me began to tilt.

“Are you okay?”

A woman, roughly my age, stood before me with her elbow clutching her purse securely to her body. Her dull brown hair framed a plain, slightly chubby face with eyes squinted with concern and hesitation. With a suitcase handle in one hand and her keys in the other, she took a half step forward toward me, but quickly brought her foot back when I stood up to my full height and unzipped my bag.

“Let’s go.” I could barely choke the words out, but kept my eyes on her and headed toward the car she had nervously glanced at when I moved.

“Wh-what?”

“Don’t say anything, just get in the car. I’ll give you money, just take me out of here.” I wasn’t even sure if I had any money but there was no need to tell her that. I could hear rushed footfalls heading towards steps and elevators, authoritative voices getting closer with every passing second. When she didn’t move, I stomped to her side and reached in my bag, growling, “Hurry up!” and she fumbled with her keys and the door unlocked with two high-pitched beeps.

I threw my bag onto the floor and sank into the dingy fabric of the backseat. With my eyes closed, I tried to focus on the faint smell of cigarettes and the sound of the woman’s keys turning in the ignition, and the rumble of the engine as she put the car in reverse and unskillfully made her way out of the parking deck.

“What city is this?”

“What? Um, I-Incheon.”

I said nothing else until we found ourselves in traffic. I’d only been to the area a few times, so when she asked me where I wanted to go, I had no answer. I could sense her fear folding in on itself, becoming more desperate and urgent.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you.”

“How am I supposed to know that?! Some weird bleeding guy in my car…oh God help me….”

“Just take me to the nearest bus station then.”

She was happy to oblige, speeding and weaving through traffic recklessly. My head started to hurt, and I couldn’t will away neither the throbbing of my forehead nor the burning sensation on my arm. I felt like I would throw up or pass out or both, and a groan escaped my lips when the car came to a hard stop.

As I manually unlocked the door, the woman kept perfectly still, a frightened animal trying to camouflage itself from predators flying overhead. She didn’t turn her head when I closed the door; she briefly locked her eyes and sighed as if trying to forget my face before speeding off and turning into traffic. I found her easy to forget.

Soon I was navigating a busy station, stepping on feet and getting stepped on as I bee lined to a bus route map. I traced the line until I found what I needed and then started to scrape up enough money for a bus ticket. When I pulled the bills from a wallet in a side pocket, my knees locked and an empty feeling seized my chest and stomach. It was a mixture of dread and regret that made my knees shake uncontrollably and seemingly without reason until I was finally able to sit down in the rumbling bus. Afterwards, only my hands shook as the bus began its long trek out of the city.

I didn’t know where I had come from and I couldn’t make myself care. But I knew where I needed to go, and what I need to find. I know only some of who I was, but I know all of what I am.

I am an immortal.


End file.
